


Swallow Everything

by ribbonelle



Series: Long and Mad [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Delphi, M/M, Medical Procedures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6324253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/pseuds/ribbonelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pharma never felt lesser than him during these moments. At least, not for the time being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swallow Everything

**Author's Note:**

> an anon asked ' what if pharma had the biggest crush on ratchet while ratchet was teaching him med-stuffs?' and i honestly just ran with it. this isn't even the thing. 
> 
> an AU where the DJD hasnt happened yet, ratchet’s with the lost light but he just suddenly ups and visits delphi and yeah
> 
> i’ve been having a lot of night shifts in the hospital im studying at so! i got truly inspired to put these two in that situation, kinda. i bastardized mechanical medical terms here like man i coulda done better but im extremely rusty and a terrible person so, sorry, youre warned, a lot of made up terms. this is hella wonky and mediocre

Pharma extended his arms, reaching towards the ceiling. He exhaled quietly, feeling the hinges in his back stretch, strained. He slowly brought his arms back down, not-so-casually checking his internal chronometer. Only 10 minutes have passed. Pharma tried his best not to drop his head onto the patient’s steel bed railing, to maybe knock himself out.

“You’re terrible at this.”

He turned just a little, not wanting to give the other mech in the room his full attention, “I’ll have you know, I do this very often. It doesn’t make it any less dull, though.”

Ratchet was apparently amused, his mouth twisted into the little smile Pharma could vaguely remember from long ago. He was holding a few instruments, calibrating them carefully as he engaged Pharma. Pharma couldn’t help but watch him work, just the way he would always watch, long ago.

His old friend had decided to visit Delphi out of nowhere, really, with details of some time off that Rodimus Prime had granted Ratchet. Pharma didn’t bother to ask about it. He didn’t care. He had stopped caring about whatever happened to Ratchet a long time ago, but he still couldn’t tamp down the pleasure of knowing that Ratchet had come to _his_ domain, _his_ facility.

Maybe the Lost Light was just in the area, or Ratchet was here to exhibit superiority, but Pharma was smug anyway. He had showed Ratchet around earlier, didn’t let Ratchet show off his skills considering First Aid and Ambulon were with them, already gawking over the Primes’ official medic being there in the flesh. Pharma couldn’t have Ratchet affecting his impressionable underlings too much. It was fortunate that they were both in recharge now.

Pharma had offered to take over the night shift for the day, because Ratchet should know that he was a good doctor and did his best for his patients, even if it meant sacrificing recharge time. Ambulon and First Aid usually took turns, but Ratchet didn’t need to know that, of course.

Pharma didn’t quite expect Ratchet to volunteer as well, but at the same time, it seemed like an entirely Ratchet thing to do. Some people never changed.

The patients were all mostly in forced recharge, and it was technically just the two of them. So Pharma let himself watch.

Minute mechanisms clicked in Ratchet’s fingers, and he walked towards the bed Pharma was resting against, “Well, you’re right. But better being bored than losing your processor when multiple sparks fail at once, for sure.”

Pharma scoffed as he stood up, moving to the side to give Ratchet space, “You never lose your processor.”

“You say that as if you don’t know me,” Ratchet quipped, and leaned over the supine patient before them, “So here’s what I was talking about. Remember the two smaller energon lines under the primary spark line?”

“Yes, Flumen 1 and 2,” Pharma jogged a little to stand at the other side of the bed, leaning in as well. Despite everything, these sessions felt like they have never ended. It was like they were back at the DMF, carrying out procedures together, discussing cases. They were colleagues, but Ratchet definitely had more experience, and Pharma never felt lesser than him during these moments.

At least, not for the time being.

“Exactly,” Ratchet removed the chest plating of their patient with careful fingers, gently setting it aside, “There’s a trigger situated in between them, generally in the upper third area of the lines. So when that happens,” he pointed to the spark pulse monitor above the patient’s bed with his free hand, at the erratic, too-sharp spikes displayed, “You can forgo the partial inhibitors and just apply pressure there instead. 10 seconds tops.”

And he did as he said, fingers sliding smoothly into the open chest cavity of the mech, searching out the lines. His index finger twitched almost imperceptibly, but the results were apparent. The jagged spikes on the spark pulse monitor widened and smoothed out, returning as curves, regular and normal. Ratchet retracted his hand soon enough, reaching for the patient’s chest plating once again, “It basically acts as an inhibitor when you manually stop the signal. It’s an unconventional method considering how invasive it is, but it works. Just something I thought you’d like to know.”

Pharma couldn’t really say anything, not yet. He watched Ratchet close the mech’s chest, keeping his optics on Ratchet’s movements. It was as if something was swelling in his chest, hot and overwhelming and some people _never_ changed.

“Thanks,” he managed, standing up straighter now that the lesson was over, “That’s really handy.”

They were apart, now, Ratchet with the Lost Light and Pharma here, in Delphi, and yet—

Ratchet’s attention was on him now, the slightly amused smile back on his faceplates. Pharma felt like he should get defensive all of a sudden, but Ratchet was not going to be here forever, this was still _Pharma’s_ Delphi, so he decided to just not care.

“You still have a thing for me doing my job, don’t you?”

Pharma scoffed, despite the telling cant of his wings, “You really don’t need to ask.”

“I’m glad you still do,” Ratchet reached over with his unused hand, patted Pharma on the cheek gently, “It’s endearing.”

Part of Pharma wanted to flinch at the touch, part of him wanted to press against it. He settled with doing neither, “Smug fragger. We still have 3 joors before it’s the day cycle. You can recharge first, while I keep an eye on this guy.”

Ratchet shook his helm, and when he moved his hand away, Pharma ignored how it felt like a loss. “I’ll stay awake. I’m returning to the ship in the morning, anyway.”

“And I’ll still be here, working throughout the day. So I’ll be the one recharging for a bit then, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course it is.” Pharma thought he had forgotten how, but he could still read the disappointment in Ratchet’s optics. He wasn’t sure what to feel about the discovery.

He nodded to himself anyway, walking back to the other side of the patient’s bed. He grabbed two nearby chairs along the way, and set them close to Ratchet, before looking at him expectantly. Ratchet raised an optic ridge but sat down on one nevertheless. Pharma dropped himself in the other seat right after, leaning against his colleague, resting his head on Ratchet’s shoulder. Ratchet hummed.

“We’re right next to a patient. This is probably all kinds of unprofessional.”

“Do I look like I care,” Pharma said, offlining his optics, “I hope this time you’ll tell me before you leave.”

Ratchet’s arms wrapped around him gently, a familiar touch from the past, “I’ll tell you.”

When Pharma’s spark swelled again, overwhelming and hot, he only asked Ratchet to hold him closer.


End file.
